


He holds her close

by anyasromanov



Category: Anastasia (1997), Anastasia - Flaherty/Ahrens/McNally, Anastasia - Flaherty/Ahrens/McNally (Broadway) RPF
Genre: F/M, Family, Fluff, Guns, Home, Love, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-11
Updated: 2018-12-11
Packaged: 2019-09-15 22:28:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16941888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anyasromanov/pseuds/anyasromanov
Summary: I just had a lil idea about Anya and her nightmares and this oneshot was born





	He holds her close

 

Anya cried herself to sleep that night. Silently, not wanting Dmitry to hear her tears. Her pillow was soaked through. 

It was partly her fault, but it was also his.

The fact that they were both so stubborn was the reason they were going to bed without having made up. The reason their backs were to each other and they weren’t snuggled up together as they usually were.

Anya couldn’t help but regret the words that had come out of her mouth. It was only a petty little argument about Dmitry wanting to know if she wished she had chosen to be a Duchess, she didn’t, she always wanted Dmitry. But the argument escalates and neither of them knew why.

———-

_“Maybe I will then, maybe I’ll just go back to being a Duchess, go back to being Anastasia!” She yelled at him in anger, she didn’t realise what she was saying until the words were out, and by then it was too late. Of course, she didn’t mean it, she would never have chosen a royal life full of riches over Dmitry._

_“Listen to yourself! You clearly want it or you wouldn’t be saying it!” Dmitry fired back, this whole argument started over one of his little insecurities. Never had they gone into a full heated argument over it before though._

_Their argument carried on, the two of them yelling at each other like they hadn’t before until Dmitry stormed at saying he was going to the Neva Club for a drink._

_She sat in their living room in silence for hours. She decided to wait up for him but in the end was getting tired and attempted to go to bed._

——

Anya looked around and she could see her brother, his sisters, her mama and papa all in that cellar. There were guards on the outside, standing at the gates, guns by the side.

She was in that cellar in Yaketerinburg.

Her family was going to die in front of her.

 

_Again._

 

Dmitry felt kicking to his sides, Anya wasn’t usually a restless sleeper. She never really had been. They would always sleep wrapped in each other’s arms and neither of them would move at all, they’d wake up in the exact position they had fallen asleep in. So, when Anya started to move quite restlessly, not just kicking but actually moving her entire body Dmitry started to get worried. He hadn’t seen her sleep like that since their first night in Paris.

 

Their first night in Paris.

The nightmares.

She was having a nightmare.

 

_Anya stood by her sister's side, Maria was right next to her, holding her hand, Olga and Tatiana standing behind her with their Mama and Papa and Alexei was in front of them. They held each other close._

_“Nicholas,” one of the guards said, he stepped forward._

_A confused whimper escaped Alexei’s lips._

_“It’s Tsar Nicholas to you,” their mother spoke, stern as ever._

_“There is no Tsar anymore,” the children were confused but both Alexander and Nicholas knew what was to come._

_Bang._

_Bang._

_Bang._

 

_3 shots. Nicholas fell to the floor._

_“Papa!” Alexei and Anastasia cried in unison only to be pulled in by their sisters._

_Their mother was next. Alexei hid his face into Anastasia who holds him close._

_“Boy!” One of the guards was yelling at Alexei. “Look at me boy!” He screamed louder than before._

 

_Bang._

 

_It wasn’t Alexandra who was shot that time but Alexei._

  _“No they’re innocent you mustn’t,” Alexandra cried, her son collapsed to the floor, bleeding out. He didn't deserve this, the poor haemophiliac who was only 14. None of the children deserved it. Not even Nicholas or Alexandra deserved. Yes, Nicholas wasn't the best leader and this was known well, but no one ever deserved to be murdered._

  _Anastasia fell to the floor with him, holding him close._ _“Aloysha, please don’t go,” she sobbed._

_Bang._

_Bang._

_Bang._

 

_Her mother._

 

_Bang._

_Bang._

_Bang._

 

_Olga._

 

_Bang._

_Bang._

_Bang._

 

_Tatiana._

 

_Bang._

_Bang._

_Bang._

 

_Maria._

 

_Bang._

_Bang._

_Bang._

 

_Her._

 

Dmitry watched as Anya restlessly moved. He wanted to help her but she was so out of reach.

“Papa!” She cried in her sleep. Dmitry wanted to hold her close, but he knew that would just make the nightmare worse. His heart broke to see her like this.

“Alyosha!” She cried, he knew exactly what dream she was having. She was in Yaketerinburg, in that cellar.

“Mama! Papa! No!” She yelled in despair as she suddenly jolted awake, throwing the blanket off of her and running off the bed.

She started to sob.

She had relived it all.

 

_Again._

 

“Anya,” Dmitry got up and walked over to her, she didn’t respond. She was still in her dream. “Anya,” no response, “God damn it, Anya,” he grabbed her turning her to look at him, “Anya, listen to me!” His voice had turned to a stern whisper.

Anya looked up, she saw Dmitry and fell into his arms, her head on his chest, she grabbed his tank top with one of her hands, the other rested on his bicep and she sobbed more.

“They came back Dmitry,” she wouldn’t stop crying. She couldn’t. She just lost her family in front of her.

“I know Anya, I know,” he pulled her in as close as he could, his arms wrapping around her small frame. “You’re safe.”

“Promise?” She was still crying. Still scared.

“Promise.”

He picked her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist and he carried her over to the bed. He sat down on the edge of the bed, her legs still wrapped around his waist. Tight. Her arms wrapped around his chest. Tight. Her head on his chest, resting there as tears continued to fall down her face. Dmitry's arms were still wrapped around her petite frame, holding her tight. He knew not to let go, more importantly, he didn't want to let her go.

Anya knew she was safe, but she was still terrified. Terrified that her nightmares had come back. She knew why they did, or had at least guessed. She only had the nightmares when her and Dmitry weren’t wrapped in each other’s arms. He was her dream catcher. He kept the nightmares away. 

“I’m sorry,” Dmitry let out in an almost whisper. 

“You didn’t kno-“ Anya cut off mid-sentence, “wait, what are you sorry for,” her voice was raspy and her words shaky as she was still crying. 

“I’m sorry for our argument, but never mind that now, what don’t I know Anya, or at least what didn’t I know?”

“It’s nothing, don’t worry about it Dima,” she lowered her head. 

“Anya,” she didn’t look up at him. He placed two fingers on her chin and lifted her face to look into her eyes. Those deep blue Romanov eyes, that he was so fortunate to have fallen in love with. His hand moved to cup her face, “tell me what’s wrong.”

”Dima, do you remember the last time I had a nightmare?” Dmitry simply nodded. It was the day before the ballet. They hadn’t slept apart since that night. Suddenly, like a flash, it all came clear to Dmitry. He held her tighter than before, squeezing her, holding her as close as he could 

“Anya, I’m sorry, if I had-“ Anya shook her head as he spoke. 

“I didn’t even realise until tonight Dima, don’t be sorry.”

Dmitry’s hand was still on Anya’s face when another tear escaped. Gently, he brushed her cheek wiping the tear away. Their foreheads touched and his thumb gently brushed against her lips. A small smile formed on her face, but that only brought more tears for her. 

Delicately, he planted a small kiss on her lips, salty from all the tears. 

It wasn’t a rough kiss, but a soft kiss. A kiss which showed Anya she was safe, that Dmitry would always be there for her. He would always keep her safe. She slowly pulled away and burried her head into the side of his neck. 

“Anya, we should go back to sleep,” she tensed, sleep meant the chance of nightmares. “I’m not going to let you go, I promise.”

Carefully, he removed Anya from her straddled position and moved her so she was sitting on his lap, her legs stretching so they were on the bed. “You can go to sleep, I’m not sleeping until you’re asleep,” he made that promise and kept it. Every night he kept it. 

When Dmitry believed Anya to be asleep he picked her up bridal style to arrange how they would be sleeping, the blanket was still on the floor from when she had thrown it earlier. Dmitry placed Anya on the bed. 

“Dima,” a small whisper came, full of fear. 

“I’m still here, I’m just getting the blanket, I don’t want you to freeze,” a small smile formed on her face, her eyes still closed. Dmitry couldn’t believe how lucky he was. 

Once Dmitry had got the blanket and placed it on top of Anya, he too lay on the bed, under the blanket. He pulled Anya close, turning her so she could place her head between his neck and chest as they usually did. 

“I love you Anya.”

”I love you too Dima.”

He kissed her forehead and the two of them drifted off to sleep. 

From then on they always slept together, wrapped in each other’s arms and Anya never had another nightmare about her family and that cellar in Yaketerinburg. 

As long as Dmitry held her close she was safe. 


End file.
